Dust and Roses: Book Two of the Dust Trilogy (10 page)

Most of my life was spent dreading the
passage of time—wondering whether or not I would become a full-blown beast by
my eighteenth birthday. Having something to look forward to was a good feeling.
I had a sense that this year’s Spring Carnival was going to be the best yet.

Excitement for the Spring Carnival was
almost at prom level. Most kids got new outfits and went with dates. I loved
that it was a carnival just for us—no parents, no little kids. It was like our
own teenage playground. Everyone let their hair down and had a good time that
night. The past couple of years, I had gone with Fletcher, but only as friends.
This year Fletcher, Imani and I would be going together if he was feeling up to
it. I hoped he would be. The carnival wouldn’t have been the same without him.
Who would make fun of the way I screamed on the roller coaster? Who would let
me squeeze their hand as tight as I needed to in the haunted house without
complaining? The weather had cleared up and I hoped it wouldn’t rain that
night.

A few days before the carnival, the
doorbell rang while I worked on my algebra homework at the kitchen table. I had
to take advantage of the quiet time before my sisters came home. “I’ll get it,”
I called upstairs to Mom.

Looking through the peephole, I thought I
saw Ranson Duvall standing on my porch. My eyes must have been playing tricks
on me, so I looked again. Sure enough, he was standing there in all his
douchebaggy confidence. Not even the flesh-colored nose splint he’d worn since
the locker incident had knocked him down a few pegs. He’d lied and told
everyone he had gotten hit in the nose with a football.

I flung the door open. “What the hell are you
doing here? You lost or something?”

Ranson looked a little taken aback at
first but then he jutted his square jaw at me. “Dust, lose the attitude, okay?”

I started to slam the door in his face but
he caught it with his forearm.

“What do you want?” I shouted.

“You and I are going to the carnival on
Saturday.”

I stared him down, trying to decipher what
he’d said. He must have been speaking in some special code where words didn’t
mean what they normally meant. “Are you insane? In what universe do you think I
would ever go anywhere with you? I probably hate you more than I hate anyone.”
That included Lacey Chapman, so it was saying a lot.

Ranson scrunched his face in confusion as
if he couldn’t understand the concept of someone hating him. “Look, don’t flatter
yourself. Do you think I want to go to the carnival with you? There’s an
endless list of hotties who would claw each other’s eyes out for a chance to go
with me.”

I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath.
Maybe his head had been knocked around too much on the football field. “Ranson,
if you don’t want to go to the carnival with me, why are you here at my house
asking me to go with you?”

He sighed in exasperation as if it were
the stupidest question he’d ever heard. The whole thing was just bizarre. “It’s
for Wiley.”

My stomach felt queasy at the mention of
his name. “What? What does any of this have to do with Wiley?”

Ranson rested his hands on the doorframe.
“He’s not going to the carnival. He says it’s lame. He doesn’t want you to go
with another guy, particularly that freak Fletcher, so he asked me to ask you
because he knows there is no way I would ever, ever,
ever
, really be
interested in you, so he doesn’t care if we go together. What time do you want
me to pick you up? Seven? Let’s do seven.”

I clenched my teeth, fighting back all the
swear words I wanted to hurl at him. “I’d rather die the longest most painful
death than go anywhere with you. Get out of here!” I slammed the door so fast
Ranson had to jump out of the way to keep his fractured nose from getting hit
again. Who did Wiley think he was, having Ranson watch over me like I was his
property?

Still, Ranson wouldn’t go away. I took the
stairs two at a time as he rang the doorbell incessantly. Mom passed me on the
landing. “Who is that?”

“Jehovah’s Witnesses. Mom, don’t open the
door, they’ll never go away.”

She jogged down the steps and did exactly
what I told her
not
to do. “Hello. Can I help you?”

I leaned over the banister, listening.

Ranson cleared his throat. “Good
afternoon, Mrs. Moss. We’ve never been formally introduced, but my name is
Ranson Duvall. I’d like to speak with Arden just for a second if that’s
okay.”  Anyone who didn’t know him, might have thought he was charming.

I could tell from Mom’s body language that
she was buying it. “What happened to your nose?”

“Football injury, ma’am. Stupid me,
playing without a helmet.”

Liar. I wanted so badly to tell him I that
I was the one responsible for that locker door whacking him in the face, but
that would only cause more problems.

Mom nodded, impressed. “You play
football?”

Ranson grinned, like he knew Mom was
eating his act right up. “Yes, mam. I’m the team’s quarterback.”

“Good for you.” Mom turned and looked at
me with an eyebrow raised.

“I don’t want to talk to him. Tell him to
go away.” I said loud enough for him to hear.

Mom sighed and placed her hand on her hip.
“Arden ...”

Nothing she could say would make me talk
to that ass. “Tell him to get out of here!”

She paused, giving me the eye and turned
back to Ranson. “I’m sorry, Ranson. Arden isn’t up for talking right now. Maybe
another time.”

 He didn’t say anything else and Mom
shut the door. What was wrong with that guy? He actually expected me to drop
everything and accept his invitation after all the horrible things he’s said to
me and done to Fletcher. Talk about entitled. 

Mom stood at the bottom of the stairs
frowning. “What was that about?”

“He asked me to the carnival.”

Mom face brightened. “Oh, Arden, he’s
cute. And he’s an athlete. Why are you being so mean to him?”

Why was
I
being so mean to
him
?
Seriously? She didn’t even know the half of it. “Mom, Ranson is one of the most
disgusting people I’ve ever met. I’d rather go to the carnival with a
cockroach!”

I slammed my bedroom door before Mom
forced me to go out with Ranson. She would totally do that. Mom could never get
enough of telling me about her first love who was also a star quarterback. I’d
do almost anything to make Mom happy, but going out with Ranson was simply out
of the question.

I spent all of Saturday afternoon getting
my carnival outfit together. I kept sending Imani pictures of what I had
planned to wear, and she kept texting me back the thumbs down emoji.

“Arden, why can’t you wear a pair of jeans
like a normal person? Who wears a floor-length dress to a carnival?” she asked
over the phone.

“I hate jeans. You know that. I’ll be
uncomfortable the whole night and I want to have a good time.” The thought of
wearing jeans was about as appealing as wearing a straight-jacket.

She sighed. “Fine. Wear what you want. I
call you when I’m on the way.”

At 6:38, I stood in my full-length mirror,
giving myself a last minute once-over.

I’d decided to put all my hair up in one
ponytail which I rarely did. It wasn’t as perfect as Mary-Kate’s, curls kept
slipping out at the sides, but I still thought it was cute. I’d chosen one of
my more casual dresses—a dress named Brandy. She wasn’t puffy and there was no
ribbon that tied around the waist.

 Brandy was a simple fitted dress
made out of dark gray jersey material; scoop-necked and sleeveless, which for
me was showing a lot of skin. After slipping into my ankle boots, I checked
myself out in the mirror. Not bad. I actually looked like a real teenager. A
normal teenager.

 Imani drove us to the Everson fair
grounds in her father’s older model Mercedes. After throwing the car into park,
she twisted her body to face me in the passenger seat and Fletcher, who sat in
the back seat nestled in his thick coat.

“Here’s the plan,” she said. “We ride first.
We’ll start with the mild ones and then work our way up to the scary ones. I
hear the roller coaster is the scariest ride here. Everybody rides. No punking
out. Then we eat and walk around and play games.”

Sounded good to me. Fletcher and I both
nodded before climbing out of the car.

The whole school was at the carnival so
we’d had to park far away. I looped my arm around Fletcher’s and leaned into
his shoulder as we walked. I hadn’t seen him in a week and I missed my friend.
I had been itching to talk to him about what had happened with Rose, but I
couldn’t with Imani around. I was angry with him, but I decided to put my
feelings aside until after the carnival. Fletcher had lied to me for a reason.
If he was playing me like Hollis thought, that wasn’t something I wanted to
know, at least not that night. Carnival nights were always perfect and who knew
how many good nights we had left? By the time senior year rolled around, I
could be a permanent resident of the sixth tunnel.

After we paid our admission, we got our
hands stamped and entered the gates of the carnival. Lately, every odor I
smelled had been intensified. The sweet smell of cotton candy nauseated me.
When we passed the kielbasa sausage stand, my mouth watered.
Ride first. Eat
later
. The perfect night did not consist of me puking all over the place.
Though I wanted the meat, I was able to suppress the urge, which was new for
me. Once the smell was gone, so was my desire for the meat. That was a good
thing.

We stood in line for the Hully Gully—a huge
merry-go-round with carts. A mechanical lady stood in the middle and the carts
hung off her dress as she danced. Three people could easily fit in one cart so
it was the perfect ride to start with.

Fletcher eyed Imani, who had begun a
conversation with Henry Piers from our biology class, as we leaned against the
railing waiting for our turn to ride. Fletcher nudged me in my side. “I like
her. . . a lot, but we shouldn’t be hanging out with her so much.”

Part of me knew he really wanted to say
that
I
shouldn’t be hanging out with her so much. Outside friends had
never been an issue for either of us before since no one had really wanted to
associate with us.

“I’m not going to hurt her, Fletcher.”
Even though I really had no way of knowing that. “I’m not as hungry as I used
to be. I think I’m getting better.”

“It’s not just that. She’s smart and
nosey. She’ll realize something is wrong with us. I mean, have you ever been
this close to anyone besides me and Bailey? Have you ever been so close to
anyone who wasn’t a creature?”

He was right, I hadn’t been. Imani was
smart, but there was no way her mind would conclude that we were creatures and
I had no intentions of giving up my friend. “It’ll be fine.” At least I hoped
it would be.

The line moved forward and Imani turned to
us. “Lacey just texted me. She wants me to meet her and the girls by the dunk
tank. Principal Sharpe is on the platform right now.”

My throat tightened. I wanted Lacey to
leave her alone. Lacey had plenty of friends, why did she want to hang out with
Imani? “Are you going to go?”

Imani scoffed. “Of course not.” Then she
started talking about some mystery movie she’d watched on TV the night before
and how she had pegged the murderer within the first fifteen minutes. “I have
never come across a mystery I couldn’t figure out,” she said confidently.
Fletcher raised his eyebrows and threw me a look.

Just then, Ranson hopped over the railing
and skipped us in line. If it were up to me, I would have let it slide because
talking to Ranson was so not worth the effort. Imani didn’t feel that way. She
tapped him on the shoulder. “The line’s back there, Duvall.”

Ranson smirked, looking her up and down in
that creepy way he does, then he moved to stand beside me. “It’s cool. My date
here was holding my spot.”

Imani’s jaw dropped and Fletcher narrowed
his eyes at Ranson.

“He is
not
my date,” I said
quickly, glaring at Ranson. “Seriously, what are you doing?” I demanded. “I
thought I was very clear when I told you this wasn’t happening.”

He adjusted the denim jacket he wore.
“Wiley wants to see you. He’s in the parking lot, row T. He wants you to bring
him a funnel cake when you come.”

I couldn’t deal with either of them. “Not
that I care, but why is Wiley in his truck? Why doesn’t he come inside like a normal
person?” He was too cool for the carnival but he could come and hang out in the
parking lot?

“I told you he doesn’t want to come to
this corny-ass carnival. By the way, he says you’re my date unless you want him
to post your little video on YouTube.”

Fletcher coughed and Ranson scowled at
him.

“Video? What video?” Imani asked. “Like a
sex tape? Arden!”

“Oh my God! It’s nothing like that!” It
was worse. I turned my focus back to Ranson. Did he know? Had Wiley showed him the
video? He couldn’t have or Ranson would have told people. He would have been
afraid of me. What did he think was on the video?